Concubines and Space Cocaine
by January in June
Summary: It started out with the two of them in the brig, and it only got worse from there. Turns out, Starfleet has a use for two highly disgraced officers.
1. Playlist

"Enterprise to Lieutenant Pierce."

Katlin groaned and rolled over. The hotel room was unfamiliar, and she fumbled blindly in the darkness for her comlink.

"Enterprise to Lieutenant Pierce."

Gods above, what time was it? Four in the morning? Her head was still spinning slightly from the ale. Or was it gin? Ugh.

She found her comlink. "Pierce. Go ahead."

"Lieutenant – the Enterprise has arrived ahead of schedule. Your rendezvous at Gebcheck Station has been moved to 0500 hours, local time."

Katlin groaned. "Understood."

"Is Commander Riker with you?"

"No?"

"We have been unable to reach Commander Riker. His comlink may be inoperable. Will you find and inform him of the change?"

"Yes. Pierce out." Katlin swung herself out of bed and turned on the lamp. The sudden brightness made her flinch. It _was_ four in the morning, if they were going to be at Gebcheck station in an hour, she would have to go rouse him now. She pulled on her Starfleet uniform slowly, trying to minimize the pounding in her head. She was never going to drink again. No – amend that – she was never going to drink anything Riker put in her hand, ever again. Blend in with the locals, he said. She packed her few belongings in her flight bag. Blend in with the locals, right. Locals got to sleep.

Katlin exited the hotel room, and the doors locked behind her with a hiss. Riker was just down the hall… unless he was still at the bar. She paused outside number 33 and rang the bell. She could hear it buzzing inside the room.

No answer. Katlin sighed. She waited a few seconds, then buzzed again. "Commander Riker?" she called. She could hear a muffled fumbling behind the door.

The door slid open manually, partially. A very disheveled and half-dressed Riker leaned against the frame. "What?" he said, curtly.

"Enterprise just called. The rendezvous is now 0500 hours."

"Wake me then." He started to shut the door in her face.

"Sir, it's 4:15."

"Will?" A feminine voice came wafting from the room behind Riker. "What's the matter?"

Katlin's mouth formed a silent "Oooooh." She stood on tiptoe to try and see past Riker, who responded by slamming the door shut in her face. "I'll meet you in the lobby in ten," he said, behind the door.

"Aye-aye, Commander," Katlin sniggered.

Riker appeared in the lobby as promised, slightly more presentable in uniform, but with bloodshot eyes. He had two flight bags slung over one shoulder, and the remainder of the diplomatic papers in his briefcase. "Ready?" he muttered.

"Yessir."

They exited the hotel to the bright light of Gebcheck station, both of them squinting through twin hangovers. Drones buzzed overhead, and even though it was the early morning hours local time, the station was abuzz with all manner of sentient beings. They joined the queue for security clearance.

"Identity papers, please."

Katlin handed her information to the guard, who gave it a perfunctory glance. "Thank you," he said. "Yours, sir?"

Riker was fumbling with his flight bags, trying to dig out his identPADD.

"Here," Katlin said, taking the smaller of the two bags from his shoulder and hoisting it over her own.

"Thanks," Riker muttered. He found his PADD and passed it to the guard.

The guard glanced at it. "Proceed."

They walked together towards the departure gate. Somewhere behind them a dog began to bark, and then snarl. "You two, stop where you are!"

Katlin and Riker glanced behind them. A guard was approaching with the snarling dog on a leash. "Stop right there!" Several other guards came at a run, phasers at the ready.

Katlin glanced up at Riker. "They mean us?"

"I think so."

"Drop your bags, hands in the air!"

Katlin unshouldered her bags, letting them drop with a thud. She raised her hands.

"Now kneel! Both of you! Kneel and put your hands behind your head."

Katlin sank to her knees, not daring to glance over at Riker. Everyone in the departure terminal was staring, wide eyed. Katlin thought she heard a Ferengi sniggering behind her.

One of the guards approached their flight bags. The dog began snarling and jerking at his leash, barking and yelping. The guard unsheathed a small knife, and made a cut across the seam of Riker's bag. With a hiss, white powder began spilling out like sand. The guard repeated the action on the bag Katlin had carried. Another hiss, another growing pile of white, crystal sand.

"Holy crap," Katlin said, as the guards jerked her hands behind her. "Commander, what is that?"

"I have no... oh, shit." Riker paled. "I left her alone with the bags while I showered."

Katlin groaned. "Tell me you got her name."

Riker glanced over as they were handcuffed. "She was… blue?" He offered.

"Oh, my God. I'm going to lose my commission." She was hauled to her feet.

They were marched down a white hallway. They were patted down, fingerprinted, photographed, and stripped of their comlinks. The door to the brig opened with a hiss.

At least it was clean, Katlin thought, staring around at the smooth white walls. She sat with a thump. Riker slid down the wall to a sit, then put his head between his knees. "Can we turn the lights down?" Riker called out to the guards.

"Oh, bit of a HANGOVER, commander?"

Riker flinched. "Pierce, be quiet."

"They're going to throw us out of Starfleet."

"Just calm down."

"Calm down? CALM DOWN? In case you haven't noticed we are-"

"Lieutenant Pierce, you are making this worse."

"I'M making things worse?" Katlin's voice raised to a shriek. "I'M the problem? I'm not the one who got their bags filled with space cocaine because they fancied a fuuuuh…" Katlin stumbled in to silence. She had suddenly noticed that Captain Picard was standing outside the brig.

Picard cleared his throat. "Explain yourselves."

Katlin pointed a finger at Riker.


	2. Everybody Talks

"Two and a half kilos of 4,4-dimethyltrixonipan."

Riker shifted uncomfortably. Katlin stared at her severely folded hands. The ready room was quiet, except for the steady hum of the engines.

Picard put down his PADD. "Do you have anything to say for yourselves?"

Katlin cleared her throat. "Captain, I had nothing to do with this."

"Is that so, Lieutenant Pierce? And if we reviewed the security feed from the bar last night, we wouldn't see you playing 'Crash the Shuttlecraft' with a half dozen Calipho?"

Katlin swallowed.

"Starfleet is considering a board of inquiry. Apparently, there have been several incidents of late, none of which made it into your formal reports. I'm sure they slipped your mind." Picard looked back at his PADD. "The Diplomatic summit on Descant-4."

Riker tried to interrupt. "Captain, I can explain."

Picard continued. "The Martian Pride Parade."

Katlin balked. "That was an accident."

Picard ignored them. "All three Mendosyn sisters."

Katlin blew a quiet raspberry. Riker struggled to keep from grinning.

"The chickens on Ka'efa."

"No, see, they were ostriches, and –" Katlin offered.

"And now two and a half kilos of 4,4-dimethyltrixonipan."

"Those drugs were _planted_ on me," Riker insisted.

"Commander, you put yourself in a position where that was possible." Picard paused. "Your commission on the Enterprise is a privilege and you serve at my discretion. You are relieved of duty. You are both relieved of duty pending the hearing."

Katlin gasped quietly.

"Dismissed."

Katlin stood, nodded, and swept from the room, trying to blink back tears.

Riker stood more slowly. "Captain, she had nothing to do with this."

"Good." Picard said, with a sharp nod. "Perhaps then you'll consider how your actions affect someone else for a change. You're bordering on a destructive recklessness, Will. Find a higher authority than your own whim or you'll no longer answer to mine. Dismissed."

Katlin flung herself down on her bed. "Computer, erase the past twenty four hours."

"Request outside normal operating capabilities."

"Nyuuungh." Katlin buried her face in her pillow, trying to ignore the growing ache of fear in her belly. They were going to be thrown out of Starfleet. How could she face her friends? Her family? Katlin stuffed the pillow over her ears. It couldn't possibly get worse.

_Famous last words_, Katlin said to herself, later the next day in Ten Forward. Apparently the news had reached Molly and Henley, and they descended like vultures.

"Hi Katlin, mind if we sit?" Their lunch trays clattered as they wiggled impatiently into seats. "Why aren't you on duty, I thought you were supposed to be at the helm?"

"I'm not on duty right now." Katlin said. Her face felt hot, she was sure she was blushing.

"Oh, well, too bad. Sounds like you had fun on your last away mission though." Molly took a bite of her shepherd's pie. "I guess we know why Commander Riker always chooses you for the away teams."

"Come on, Molly," Henley said. "Don't be nasty."

"Oh please. Every time there's an away team it's the two of them off on some _secret mission_. What was your job last time, Katlin? Docking the shuttlecraft? I'm sure you did." Molly smirked and Henley giggled.

Katlin felt her blush intensify. Before she could respond, her comlink chirrped. "Lieutenant Pierce, report to the Captain's ready room."

"Acknowledged."

"Ooh, good luck with that _Lieutenant Pierce_." Molly tipped her head to one side and pouted. "Maybe it's time to earn Lieutenant Commander."

Katlin left with the sound of their laughter ringing in her ears.

The doors to the ready room hissed open to reveal Captain Picard, a Starfleet Admiral, and a tall, humanoid woman, all seated at the conference table. The admiral wore a tight frown, his dark brows knit together. The woman had long, black hair and black eyes, with unusually large pupils. She was dressed in long, silvery robes and had a diplomat's badge pinned where the fabric gathered at her shoulder.

The door hissed open behind Katlin, and Riker entered. Katlin glanced over her shoulder to see him, and felt sure that she was blushing again.

Picard nodded. "Admiral Walker, Ambassador Steelax, this is Commander William Riker and Lieutenant Katlin Pierce."

"Have a seat," the admiral grunted.

Katlin and Riker sat.

"I'll begin," Picard said. "First, it is the finding of the board of inquiry that neither of you were at fault for the incident on Gebcheck station. The authorities were able to locate the woman responsible and have obtained a full confession."

Katlin felt the knot in her stomach begin to loosen.

Picard continued. "Normally, this would result in some brief disciplinary action. However, there are some extenuating circumstances to consider. Admiral?"

The Admiral activated the viewscreen. "This is the planet Yvestalta, a Federation planet." The screen displayed a medium-sized class M planet. Scenes of bright, towering cities and lush, verdant forests flashed across the screen. The Admiral continued. "Yvestalta is of great economic importance, however, it is currently suffering from a dramatic upswing in organized crime. It is one of the largest illegal exporters of 4,4-dimethyltrixonipan, better known as 'Critter,' as well as illegal phasers and cloaking devices. All of this is currently being financed by this man, Caluphant Hart." The admiral displayed a picture of a humanoid with the same dark eyes as the ambassador, although with thinning, blonde hair. His face was lined with age, but his eyes were narrowed with intent and a small smile played around his lips. "Hart bases his operations on the moon orbiting Yvestalta, and finances his operations through the illegal mining of Yllium. The moon orbiting Yvestalta contains the highest known concentration of Yllium anywhere in the galaxy. Yllium is pliable, conductive, and a key part of illegal sub-space radios. It is also highly prized in high-end electronics, and turns a considerable profit for Hart."

The Ambassador spoke for the first time, her voice soft and honeyed. "Hart is a security threat to the entire planet. He's building an army, an empire. With the continued sale of Yllium, he could topple our entire quadrant."

"Have you considered military action?" Riker asked.

"We have. In the past." The Ambassador said. "There were massive casualties on both sides. And now, Hart has a new weapon."

The viewscreen changed to display a glowing, purple sphere. "An Yllium detonator. Once activated, it causes any Yllium within a five mile radius to explode. Normally this is not a serious threat, due to the scarcity of naturally occurring Yllium. But if Hart were to activate the detonator on the moon, the resulting explosion would likely destroy our planet. We can no longer lead an offensive on the moon. What we need is a small strike force to infiltrate Hart's network and recover the detonator."

Riker cleared his throat expectantly. Kat swallowed.

The Admiral continued. "Your recent… incident with 4,4-dimethyltrixonipan affords us a unique opportunity." He paused. "We have tried to introduce operatives into his network before, but he is wary of any sign of subterfuge. In this situation, there will be no need for deception. You have been arrested, publicly, legitimately, for smuggling his drug of choice. While we have privately cleared you of charges, the public announcement has been made that both of you have been dishonorably discharged from service. You can disembark at Yvestalta and infiltrate his organization from there."

"We have good reason to believe that you will be able to enter Hart's operation," the Ambassador offered. "Our intelligence reports indicate that Hart is looking to expand further into federation space, and he will likely be unable to resist trying to recruit two former officers."

"This is not your usual undercover operation," the Admiral said. "You will have no contact with the Federation. Your discharge will be, for the moment, official. None of what has been said will leave this room. Security will escort you to your quarters. You will have five minutes to pack your personal effects. You will no longer be entitled to your uniform or your badge. Time is of the essence, this must appear to be official. Your comlinks, officers."

"Do we get a choice in the matter?" Riker snapped.

"Of course," the Admiral said, and waited. The room was silent for a moment.

"Send me," Riker said, unpinning his comlink. "Lieutenant Pierce doesn't have to be involved."

"Hart will suspect a trap. You were both caught carrying Critter. It's both of you, or neither."

Katlin took a deep breath. Molly's words were ringing in her ears. Ooh, the two of them away on a _secret mission…_

Katlin opened her mouth to refuse the assignment, but she looked up and caught the ambassador's dark, pleading eyes. Countless lives. Katlin shut her mouth. She realized she had been about to let Molly Nelson, vile, jealous Molly, condemn an entire planet. You know what? She was tired of Molly's spite. Katlin felt a sudden strong heartbeat in her chest. Damn it, she was Starfleet. Sacrifice and honor were her bywords. Katlin unpinned her comlink with trembling fingers and placed it on the table.

Riker tossed his down in kind.

"Once on Yvestalta, do not try to contact Hart. Bide your time and let him come to you."

"Bide our time doing what?" Katlin asked, her voice squeaking.

Picard grunted softly. "You're disgraced former officers. I suggest you behave accordingly."

The admiral stood. "As of this moment, you are no longer commissioned in Starfleet. Will, Katelin, dismissed."

Katlin stood and turned to walk away, but Riker abruptly caught her arm. "Her name is Katlin," he said, staring down the admiral.

"Katlin," the admiral corrected, catching her eye. Katlin nodded, wordlessly.

Riker released her arm. "We'll see ourselves out."

True to the admiral's word, security was waiting for them outside the door. Katlin was marched to her room, where she packed a rucksack frantically. Her family – would they tell her family she'd been discharged? She cringed at the thought of her mother, worrying about her, and being unable to contact her. She stripped out of her uniform and scrounged for sturdy, civilian clothes. Thick, durable khaki pants. Tall, military grade boots. A cotton shirt, a padded vest, a thick canvas jacket. She stuffed the rucksack with spare clothes and, with a moment's hesitation, the folding Klingon knife Worf had given her for her birthday. She stood and looked about her quarters. Would it be waiting for her when she returned? She grit her teeth.

The doors to her quarters opened. "Time's up," the guard announced.

Katlin shouldered her rucksack and followed him to the transporter room. People stopped to stare as they went past, and Katlin shrugged her shoulders, trying to hide behind the security officer. You are no longer in Starfleet, she told herself. How would you act if you were no longer in Starfleet?

I'd punch Molly in the face, she mused to herself. She stopped abruptly. The guard turned.

"Hey, can we … uhm, make a stop in Ten Forward? I want to say goodbye to someone."

The guard hesitated.

"Please?" Katlin said. "I'll never get another chance."

The guard nodded, and they altered course. Once inside Ten Forward, Katlin marched straight to the table where Molly and Henley were still sitting.

"Oh my God, what ARE you wearing?" Molly said, laughing into her drink. "Did they throw you out of Starfleet?"

"Yes." Katlin said, low. Conversations around them stopped. "Yes," Katlin continued, a little louder than necessary. "And – and I'm leaving with Riker." She steeled herself. "And I just wanted to say, well, uh…"

"Spit it out," Molly dared.

Katlin raised a hand and slapped Molly across the face, with a resounding smack. "You can go stuff yourself with tribbles, you nasty little engine rat."

It may have been her imagination, but Katlin thought she heard a round of applause as the guard dragged her out of Ten Forward.

Riker was waiting for them in the transporter room, dressed in similarly drab but sturdy civilian clothes. "Ready to go?"

Katlin grunted as they stepped on to the platform.

"What's the matter?"

Katlin positioned herself on the transporter. "I… I said 'goodbye' to Ensign Nelson."

Riker laughed. "Two minutes out of Starfleet and you're already on your worst behavior. I'll be sure to follow suit."

Katlin rolled her eyes. "Oh my God, commander, have you been on your GOOD behavior up till now? Everyone talks about you enough as it is."

Riker grinned. "Everybody talks too much."

Katlin glanced over at him. The transporter began to whirl and the last thing she saw was his wink.


	3. Nobody Love

The first thing Katlin was aware of was the noise. Cars honked, music blared, sirens wailed in the distance. As the transporter glimmer faded from her eyes, she blinked to take in the city scape. Vendors on the street hawked wares beneath towering gray skyscrapers. A half-dozen rats scurried past, and a warm wind blew discarded papers around her feet. She coughed, the acrid smell of diesel and summer heat flooding her lungs.

"I thought this was a prosperous planet," she said to Riker.

"Not everywhere, and certainly not where we can afford." Riker adjusted the straps of his pack. "Ready?"

"For what?" Katlin trotted after him.

"We need a place to stay. Somewhere where they rent the rooms by the hour."

"Oh, gross."

"We're gross."

"No, you're gross. I'm gross by association."

Riker chuckled. "Keep an eye on your pockets. Stay close."

They made their way down the street, dodging the occasional panhandler and stepping over random debris. Katlin cursed her decision. It's one thing to nobly agree to save a planet, it's another to be sweating your way down a dirty, alien causeway.

"This looks about right," Riker said. Katlin stopped and looked up at the crumbling brick building, which had a neon sign advertising a hotel and casino. Half the letters were burnt out.

"Ugh," she said, as she followed him into the dark doorway.

The entranceway featured a dimly lit concierge behind plexiglass. A non-plussed grey alien dutifully flicked through a ledger. "A room for the night," Riker said. "William Riker and Katli-" he stopped short as Katlin punched his rucksack. "What?"

"Our real names?" she hissed, hoping the hotel guard couldn't hear.

Riker looked incredulous. "I thought that was the point. Whatever." He turned back to the caretaker. "A room for William Riker and one Platypus Fancypants."

"Very good, sir. 30 credits." Riker paid through a slit in the bottom of the plexiglass. "Room 8," the guard continued. "A key for you, Mr. Riker. One for you, Ms. Fancypants."

Katlin snatched her key.

The interior of the hotel did little to lift her spirits. Voices wailed from further down the darkened hallway, and a roach scuttled across the walls. The fluorescent lights flickered as Riker unlocked room 8. It was spartan, gray, uninviting. A single mirror hung on the wall, cracked. The narrow bed was covered in a single gray sheet, and the only other furnishing was a hard steel chair in the corner.

"You can have the bed," Riker said, letting his rucksack fall.

Katlin approached it cautiously and tested it with one hand. It squelched and her hand came up damp. "Unghh, no thanks." She wiped her hand on her pants.

"Not exactly a galaxy class starship." Riker took his jacket off and tossed it over the chair. "Well, let's go."

"Go where?"

"You want to stay here?"

"Good point." Katlin let her backpack drop.

Riker locked the door behind them and pocketed the key. "I think there's a bar this way."

Katlin sighed. "I'm not drinking."

"Come anyway."

* * *

Four drinks later she was leaning over the wobbly table. "And ANOTHER thing, Commander –"

"Will," he corrected, refilling her glass.

Katlin frowned. "I can't call you Will."

"Riker, then."

"Ok." Katlin took a sip. "What was I saying?"

"I forget," Riker said, tipping back his glass with a smile. The bar had been near to empty when they entered, but it had quickly filled with all sorts. A tall, skinny man who looked like a stick insect glided past. A trio of Ferengi argued in the corner. The willowy bartender wiped the bar down, and a jukebox in the corner played something harsh and loud. At the far end of the bar, a group of tall, furry aliens gathered around what looked like a craps table, alternately roaring jovially and snarling furiously as they threw dice across the board.

Katlin sipped her beer. "I can't believe this. This morning I was on the Enterprise, now I'm in the most disgusting hotel on the planet drinking…" she paused to consider her glass. "What am I drinking?"

"It's called Psharra."

"It's Pshgusting." Katlin threw back another gulp. "All thanks to Commander Riker's predilection for blue women. Or women. Or just blue. Actually, movement, really, I think. Like a T-Rex." Katlin considered her glass. "Rwar."

"Is that really what you think of me?" Riker sat back.

"Well, I," Katlin stammered a bit. "I mean." She paused. "Yes."

"That's funny, I never thought you were one to judge."

"I'm not _judging_," Katlin said. "I'm just pointing out the fact that neither of us would be here if it wasn't for you."

"Have you ever noticed how often you blame someone _else_ for your situation?" Riker asked.

Katlin gaped at him.

Riker took a swig and continued. "The way I see it, you volunteered for this assignment. Time to take ownership. And no one's going to believe you're ex-Starfleet if you keep sitting there with that stick up your-"

"Ahem." A short green alien had approached their table. His elongated face ended in a short, elephant-like snout, which was quivering. Insect-like feelers atop his head waved absently. He laid some coins on the table. "An hour of time with you, beautiful?"

Katlin stiffened. Riker was suddenly alert, sliding an arm between her and the stranger. "She's not for sale," he growled.

The alien cocked his head. "Not the girl. You!"

Katlin looked at the coins on the table, and then back to Riker. She screamed with laughter. "Ten credits!"

Riker gathered the coins and threw them at the interloper. "Get out of here."

Katlin wheezed and clapped her hands. "Ten credits! See, I told you you're a cheap date."

"Enough, Pierce," Riker said, drinking deeply. He fought to keep the smile from his face.

"No, no," Katlin said, digging in her pockets. "I think I've got a credit and a half, what will that get me?"

"A knuckle sandwich."

Katlin giggled and finished her drink. Riker signaled for another pitcher of Psharra. "You know, I remember the first time I drank this," he said. "Did I ever tell you about the time I met the President of the Federation?"

Katlin shook her head, wide eyed.

By the end of the story, Katlin was snorting Psharra out of her nose.

"So then, so then," Riker was gasping at his own laughter. "He says, that's not my wife, that's my shuttlecraft."

Katlin slapped her end of the wobbling table, causing it to tilt and knocking their pitcher over. She squealed, standing awkwardly to avoid the waterfall of beer.

"Whoops," Riker said, pulling her into his lap and out of the deluge. "All hands on deck."

Katlin laughed and buried her face in his neck, her head spinning. She hiccupped gleefully. "Your beard's scratchy," she said.

"That so?"

"Mmm." Katlin pulled back to look at him. "How did I end up in your lap?"

"I'm irresistible."

"No you're not! Look, resisting." Katlin attempted to arrange her face into something stoic.

"That's because I'm not really trying yet."

"Well go ahead, try."

"You are the most beautiful woman in the quadrant."

"Mm-hm," Katlin said skeptically.

"I dream of a galaxy where your eyes are the stars and the universe worships the night."

Katlin rolled her eyes. "How many women does that work on?"

"Guinan loved it."

"I'm not Guinan."

"No, you're not," Riker agreed. "Let's try something else." He paused. "I thought I'd lost you once, Pierce, on Lohrammain."

Katlin quieted.

"You were dead, I was certain you were dead. I blamed myself. They told me not to go back for you, but I couldn't… couldn't leave you there. And when I found you, when I felt your pulse…" Riker met her eyes. "You're a living, breathing second chance."

Katlin swallowed. "Will…"

"See?" Riker tweaked her nose. "Ten seconds to breathless. That's a new record!"

Katlin laughed and slapped his hand away. "You're a disgrace, Will Riker," she announced.

"Definitely."

But Katlin could still feel her heart hammering. She bit her lip. "I'm supposed to be in disgrace, too, aren't I?"

Riker smiled lopsidedly. "Something like that."

"Well then." Katlin felt her stomach turn over. "I'd like to announce that following is the result of strictly following orders to debase myself."

"Of course."

"You're under a moral obligation not to enjoy this."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Riker promised. When she kissed him, his lips were turned up in a smile.

Katlin rested her forehead against his. "Thank you for not leaving me for dead," she whispered.

"You're most certainly welcome." He kissed her again, lightly.

Katlin was suddenly anxious. She cleared her throat, and sat back. "We should do something."

"Like what?" Riker asked, reaching back for his glass.

"What are they playing over there?"

Riker glanced at the collection of large, furred aliens. "Baqallerat, I think."

"Do you know the rules?" Katlin was on her feet.

"Yes, but it's usually only for –"

"Let's go!" Katlin struggled out of his grip and stumbled to the table. "Hi, I'm Katlin," she announced.

The half dozen aliens turned to stare at her. Not one of them was under seven feet tall, and the largest had to stoop to avoid the ceiling. Their expressionless black eyes were mostly hidden under long, matted, brown fur. Katlin rocked back and forth a little. "Sup?"

The nearest alien roared with laughter, slapped her heartily on the back, and handed her a pair of dice. "My turn?" Katlin asked, and he nodded.

Riker appeared at her shoulder. "Throw the dice at the red circle at the end of the board. You want to roll doubles or a prime number."

Katlin tossed the dice gracelessly. They landed within the red circle. "Five!" she announced. The shaggy alien to her right handed her a credit. "Awesome!" she said, and passed the dice to the alien on her left. He rolled a seven a Katlin was forced to part with her newly earned credit. Someone passed her another drink.

An hour later, a boisterously drunk Katlin was screaming across the Baqallerat table at the biggest alien. "You cheated!" She pointed. "Riker, Riker, I saw him switch the dice." She lunged across the table and scrabbled at the pile of credits that had recently been hers. "Listen you overgrown mop dog, I've cleaned the head with better looking rags."

The intended recipient of her insults roared with laughter and stepped back slightly to avoid Katlin.

Riker wrapped his arms around her middle, pulling her back. "Ok, Lieutenant, I think you've had enough."

Katlin was swinging punches ineffectively. "Lemme go. He looks top heavy."

"Time to go." With a grunt, Riker hoisted her over one shoulder. "Gentlemen," he nodded to the large aliens, hefted Katlin once, and turned to leave.

Katlin rained her fists againsts his back. "William Thelonius Riker, put me DOWN!"

"It's Thomas."

Katlin paused. "Could have sworn it was Thelonius."

She continued abusing him as he unlocked their room. "Yes, yes," Riker agreed, kicking the door shut behind them. "Time for bed," he grunted, flopping her awkwardly on the bed.

"Oh," Katlin said, absently, "I would never go to bed with you, Will Riker."

"Why's that?" he asked, tugging off one of her boots.

"Because," she hiccupped. "Because then I would know you didn't care for me one bit."

Riker paused. Katlin began to snore. He removed her other boot.

* * *

Katlin woke the next morning to a pounding head. She groaned and rolled over to find Riker sitting in the chair across the room. "Good morning," he offered.

Katlin moaned and pushed herself upright.

"So, good news on the disgrace front," Riker said. "You gambled away the last of our credits last night."

Katlin rubbed her temples. "So what do we do now?"

Riker leaned over his knees. "Want to rob a bank?"


	4. Shut up and Drive

"Ok, so here's the plan. We'll head uptown until we find a bank that's big enough." Riker handed Katlin a pair of sunglasses, and she put them on gratefully. The morning summer sun was bit bright for her tastes.

"I'll open a checking account," Riker said, "You'll be in charge of casing the joint."

"Casing the joint? Whatever you say, Al Capone."

Riker put on his own pair of shades. "Security cameras. Exits. Guards. Once we get a feel for the place we can make a plan. If we get separated, meet back at the hotel."

"Got it." Katlin said.

They turned and headed uptown. The streets became wider, cleaner. Shops sprang up, glass windows displaying dresses for any number of alien species. They passed a sidewalk café, and the scent of bread made Katlin's stomach growl. When was the last time she'd eaten? They turned a corner to find what was undoubtedly the main street. The towering skyscrapers gleamed in the sun. Trees lined the streets, waving softly in the warm breeze. Families strolled past, giving Riker and Katlin a wide berth.

Ha, Katlin thought, as a mother pulled her child closer. We must look thoroughly disreputable. Good.

At the end of the street they found the bank. Squat compared to the other buildings, it was constructed entirely of white marble with ostentatious Grecian columns and an expansive set of oversized stairs.

"Perfect," Riker said. They climbed the steps.

The inside of the bank was just as grand as the outside. The floor was rose marble veined with gold, and tellers lined the walls. The bank was crowded, and voices echoed in the high ceiling. They joined the nearest queue.

Katlin, recalling her assignment, took off her glasses and glanced around the bank. Security cameras in every corner. There was a guard at the main entrance, and another at the door to the vault. The windows were high, and the sunlight filtered through decorative but sturdy iron portcullises.

A guard entered through a side door, pushing a cart loaded high with canvas bags. Katlin grinned. They might as well have put a comically large dollar sign on the outside of the bag. The guard next to the vault nodded and began imputing a code on the door.

"Hey, Riker," Katlin elbowed him. "Over there, we could just -"

"No," Riker said.

"Oh, come on," Katlin said. "There's like... three guards."

"You'll get shot. Now pay attention, we need to-"

Katlin wandered away, not listening. "Katlin!" Riker hissed.

"Sir?" The teller asked. Riker had reached the front of the queue, and the teller was looking at him quizzically.

"Yes, hello, I'd like to," Riker managed to tear his gaze from Katlin. "To open a checking account. William Riker."

Katlin approached the guards with the cart of bags. The nearest guard had a phaser clipped to his belt. "Miss!" he said harshly, putting out a hand to stop her. "You need to stay back."

"Uhm, yeah, but like, where are the bathrooms?" Katlin asked.

The guard turned to point. Katlin snatched at his phaser, and missed. "Freeze!" the guard screamed, unbuckling the weapon from his belt.

In for a penny, Katlin thought. She tackled him around the middle and they landed in a tangle of arms and legs, the guard dropping his weapon. Sirens began to wail. Katlin scrambled to stand, snatching the phaser. Guards were approaching at a run. She planted her feet, disabled the safety, and fired three shots into the air. The kickback from the unfamiliar weapon made her stumble. "Stay back," she demanded, leveling the weapon, and the guards halted. Patrons began to scream, running for the exits.

Katlin grabbed a canvas bag at a run. "Time to go, Riker!"

Riker turned back to the wide eyed teller. "Nevermind. Have a great day." He tapped the counter once, put his sunglasses on and threw himself into the crowd streaming for the exits.

Katlin took the stairs down to the street in a run. She paused. They needed a car, and quick. Katlin ran into the street and squared herself in front of an oncoming hovercar – a low, open-top cherry-red sports model. She aimed the phaser down the windshield and the car screeched to a halt. "Out of the car!" she screamed, eyes wild. The white haired owner scrambled to obey.

"What has gotten into you?" Riker demanded. He vaulted into the driver's seat.

"Shut up and drive!" Katlin said, jumping in. Riker put the car in gear and punched the accelerator. Katlin was flung back against her seat as the car shot forward.

Katlin turned around in her seat. Sirens wailed in the distance but she couldn't see any cars in pursuit. Riker took a sharp corner and Katlin slammed into the side of the car, laughing. "WOOO!" She screamed, turning back in her seat, arms in the air. "Yes! Take that!" Buildings flashed by at breakneck speed.

Riker banked the car, heading for a highway. "Who are you and what have you done with Katlin?" The road rose up to an overpass, and they zoomed across the city limits. Katlin laughed and began to sing, the words lost in the wind whipping past their ears. Riker chose an exit at random and peeled off of the highway.

The paved highway narrowed to a winding, two lane road. Tall grass waved along either side of the road, punctuated by the odd, gnarly tree. Riker slowed the car, listening. "Do you hear any sirens?"

Katlin pursed her lips, listening intently. "No. We did it!" She hefted the bag into her lap. "This is heavy, how much do you think we got away with?" She began to untie the neck of the bag.

"No! Katlin, don't, there's probably-"

POOMPH. A sudden, explosive cloud of blue ink enveloped Katlin.

"…a dye bag," Riker finished.

Katlin coughed, waving her arms, dispersing the last of the particulate ink. She looked over at Riker, eyes watering. Riker laughed – she was a dark, navy blue from the waist up – clothes, hair, skin, everything except the whites of her eyes, which were tearing up.

Riker laughed harder.

"It's not funny!" Katlin wailed.

Riker had trouble keeping his eyes off of her, glancing between her and the road. "You know, I think you're right, I do have a thing for blue women."

Katlin flicked her hands at him, sending droplets of ink over his jacket.

"Watch it!" he said, still laughing. "Let's find a place for you to get clean." The car wound through the countryside, climbing a modest hill. Riker spotted something promising in the distance.

* * *

"You're joking, right?" Katlin said, as Riker pulled off the road. He parked the car with a thump next to a rocky riverbank.

"You're not going back into town _blue,_" Riker said, turning the engine off.

"What if there are snakes?" Katlin asked, as they both exited the hovercar.

"Scared?"

"No," Katlin said, peeling off her jacket. "Turn your back."

Riker pushed his dark sunglasses further up his nose, grinning.

"Riker!"

With a sigh he turned his back and wandered a discrete distance away.

Katlin groaned. Everything was dripping blue ink. She threw her jacket into the water and watched a slow cloud of dark blue blossom across the surface. She sighed and sat to remove her boots. The rest of her clothes were just as blue as her skin, might as well take the whole shebang for a dip. She stood. At least it was warm out. She clambered down the rocky bank and lowered herself into the water, which was icy cold. She shivered, took a deep breath, and submerged, scrubbing frantically at her face and arms.

She surfaced with a gasp. "It's freezing!" She opened her eyes, blinking. "Is it coming off?" Riker didn't answer. Katlin turned frantically. "Riker?"

A Klingon war cry split the air and Katlin had just enough time to duck before a shirtless Riker plunged into the water beside her, sending a wave of lightly-inked water over the banks. She surfaced sputtering, splashing in what she hoped was his direction. "You ass," she said, laughing.

Riker surfaced, spitting a jet of water into the air. "Feels good." He grinned at her. "You're still blue, by the way."

Katlin pouted.

"Come here, let me try."

Katlin swam over. Riker licked his thumb and scrubbed at her cheek. "There, looks like it's-" Without warning, he grabbed at her shoulders and pushed her under.

Katlin gargled and thrashed under the water, kicking ineffectively. Her back hit the bottom. Inspired, she opened her eyes, and grabbed a handful of murky silt.

Riker was laughing when she surfaced and she didn't hesitate. Sidearm. _Splat._

Riker wiped the mud from his eyes with one hand. His eyes narrowed. Katlin screamed in mock fear as he dove for her. "Truce! Truce!" she pleaded, just before he dragged her under.

A dunking or two later Riker was content to let her surface unimpeded. Katlin coughed. "Ok, ok, you win. Am I still blue?"

"No, but your hair looks a bit silvery."

Katlin grabbed a handful of her previously blonde locks and held it up for her own inspection. "Weird."

Riker climbed the riverbank and shook his hair out. "Come on, we shouldn't stay in one place too long." He snatched his shirt from the branch he'd hung it on.

Katlin pulled herself out of the water, slipping a bit on the rocks. Her clothes were still a little grayish-blue and they hung heavily. She wrung as much water as she could from her shirt. She sighed and ran a hand through her matted, now silvery-blue hair.

"You'll air dry," Riker said, starting the car. Katlin picked up her boots and let herself into the passenger side.

Riker was digging through the now defenseless moneybag. "Katlin," he said, in an awed voice. "There are maybe a million credits in here."

"A million?"

"At least."

Katlin opened the glove compartment of the car and pawed through the papers until she found a map. She considered it for a minute. "Looks like all the highways lead to this city here, El Vistro."

"El Vistro it is," Riker agreed, putting the car in gear.

* * *

"That one!" Katlin said, pointing at the largest, gaudiest hotel on the strip. Set back from the rest of the street, it featured a fountain of color changing water, and large, purple, flightless birds strutting through manicured shrubs.

"Looks tacky," Riker said, slowing to take a look.

"We're outlaws," Katlin reminded him.

"Good point." Riker pulled up under the lighted marquee. A valet in a dark green uniform trotted anxiously up to the car.

"Sir," he said, warningly, "This establishment is only for –"

Riker flipped him a thousand-credit coin.

"-discerning gentlemen such as yourself," the valet continued smoothly, as he caught the coin. He opened the door. "Enjoy your stay and thank you for choosing the Phrixus."

Katlin came around the car and stood beside Riker at the door to the hotel. "I think I'm under-dressed," she said, staring up at the ornate gold awning over the entrance.

"Here," Riker handed her several thousand credits. "Go shopping. I'll get us a room."

Katlin took the money. "Try not to get arrested before I get back."

"You're still kind of blue," Riker warned her, as she walked away.

Katlin strolled down the sidewalk, stopping to buy something vaguely like a hotdog from a street vendor. She chewed as she walked, idly looking through shop windows until she found a store for humanoids. She swallowed the last of her sandwich and entered the shop. The bell above the door tinkled and the shopkeepers looked up.

"Oh honey," a redheaded woman gasped. "What happened to you?"

"Long story. I need some new clothes." Katlin dumped her handful of thousand-credit coins on the counter. The red-headed shopkeeper exchanged a glance her brunette counterpart. "Jeanine, go flip the sign to 'closed.'" As she did, the redhead tapped a finger against on cheek, examining Katlin. "This may take a while."

By the time they were finished with her, Jeanine and the redhead (whose name was Imogen) had convinced Katlin into several dresses, a pantsuit, flannel pajamas and a robe, four pairs of shoes, and even called in a barber to brush out Katlin's inky, tangled hair. He'd trimmed six inches from her silver locks and insisted on giving her bangs. Imogen zipped Katlin into a short, tight black dress with lacy cap sleeves. Imogen nodded approvingly. Katlin preened in the mirror. "Wow, much better." She swung her head and enjoyed the sensation of her hair skimming her shoulders.

Jeanine was gleefully ringing up her purchases. "We'll have everything sent up the Phrixus. What's your name, again, darling?"

"Platypus Fancypants, probably," Katlin said.

"Not to worry," Jeanine said. "We get all types."

Katlin tipped the barber, who was sweeping up the last of the discarded hair. "Thank you."

Imogen handed her a large brimmed, black hat and a pair of sunglasses. "You might need these, Platypus."

"…yeah," Katlin agreed, taking them. "Thank you, you've been very kind."

"If anyone asks, tell them Imogen fixed you."

"I will," Katlin promised.

Outside the shop, Katlin enjoyed the click of her new shoes against the sidewalk. She caught her stylish reflection in the shop windows she passed and grinned. Anyone who was on the lookout for a inky-blue outlaw would pass her by without a second thought.

She entered the Phrixus confidently. She handed her hat and glasses to the doorman. "Tell me," she said, "Is there a restaurant in here? I'm looking for a tall, bearded gentleman. Dark hair."

"Just through those doors," the doorman pointed. Katlin walked towards the double doors, enjoying the feel of the plush carpet beneath her feet.

She could feel the eyes of the other hotel patrons on her as she passed. A man, previously seated by the ornate fireplace, rose to follow her.

Hmm. Katlin glanced over her shoulder. He didn't look like a cop. Perhaps he was just hungry. Katlin smiled as yet another valet opened the frosted door to the restaurant.

Riker was – unsurprisingly – at the bar. His back was to her but his broad shoulders and awkward lean were unmistakable. He'd managed to find some nicer duds, as well, dark pants and a crisp, white shirt with a high collar. He'd rolled the sleeves back past his elbows.

She took the seat beside him.

"This seat's ta-" Riker started to say, turning, and then balked. "Well that's an improvement."

"I clean up nice." Katlin signaled the barkeep. "Seltzer water, please." She returned her gaze to Riker and sized him up. He'd had a shave. "Not so bad yourself." She straightened his stiff white collar, somewhat unnecessarily.

Over Riker's shoulder, Katlin could see the man that had followed her from the lobby take up residence in the corner of the room. He stood staring, and then put a hand to his ear.

Katlin leaned forward to kiss Riker's cheek. "I think we're being watched," she whispered in his ear.

"The man in the corner?" he asked, quietly, disguising the question with a thorough kiss.

"Yes."

"Want to get out of here, sweetheart?" Riker asked, at a conversational volume.

"Thought you'd never ask," Katlin purred.

They stood, and Riker offered his arm. As they turned to leave a man in a black suit entered the bar, a phaser displayed prominently at his hip. He approached them, unreadable.

"You're going to come with me," he said. "Quietly."

"You must be mistaking us for someone else," Riker said. "If you'll excuse us," Riker attempted to shoulder past.

The man placed a hand warningly over his phaser. "Not so fast, Mr. Riker. Let's you and Ms. Pierce take a walk."

Katlin felt the air stir behind her and realized another two men had approached their backs. She swallowed and exchanged a glance with Riker. She nodded.

"Alright," Riker said, softly. "Call off the dogs."

They followed the man out of the restaurant, across the hallway, into the elevator. The man pushed a button, and the elevator began to sink. Four floors later, the doors opened to the basement. They stepped out into the damp, dark concrete. Pipes overhead dripped with condensation. Somewhere in the distance a generator hummed.

The armed man pulled a set of keys from a pocket and walked to the far stone wall. He unlocked and opened a door. "In here," he said, coldly.

In contrast to the dank and dark basement, the room behind the door was bright, spotless white, and lit with nearly blindingly white light. The man entered the room behind them, closing the door and taking a guarding stance.

The far wall blinked, hissed, and Katlin realized it was a viewscreen. The viewscreen came to life to display the shadowy outline of man. With the backlighting, it was hard to tell, but Katlin felt like she could see the thinning blonde hair, and large, black pupils.

The man spoke, his voice artificially distorted and robotic. "I think things will go quicker if we agree to be honest with each other, Mr. Riker, Ms. Pierce."

"Who are you?" Riker demanded.

"Irrelevant. We're here to discuss the two of you." He paused. "What are you doing on Yvestalta?"

"That's our business." Riker said.

"Yvestalta IS my business. And it's time to find out who you're going to work for. You see, I don't believe for one moment that you were stupid enough to get caught with two kilos of Critter."

Katlin stiffened.

"Starfleet doesn't share your regard," Riker said, smoothly. "I've been discharged for the offense."

"So it seems. Let's make this simple: how do I get past the blockade?"

Riker and Katlin shared a glance. "What blockade?" Katlin asked.

"The USS Argonaut is currently in orbit around Yvestalta, preventing my usual shipments from leaving the planet. So tell me, how do I get past them?"

"How would we know?" Riker asked.

"You're Starfleet."

"Ex-Starfleet," Riker corrected.

"And I'm prepared to believe you at any moment. Mr. Riker, how do I get past the blockade?"

"I don't know."

"Jason, the girl."

Katlin felt a sharp blow across the back of her head, and the guard's hand on her shoulder forced her to her knees. Riker made a start for the guard, but the guard swung his phaser around to aim at Riker's chest.

"The blockade, Mr. Riker."

"Let her go and we'll talk."

"Three," the man on the viewscreen said. "Two."

Katlin felt the phaser connect with the back of her head. She closed her eyes.

"Asteroids!" Riker barked.

"Asteroids, Mr. Riker?"

Riker took a breath. "Are there asteroids orbiting the planet? Or satellites. Anything in orbit."

"There may be."

"When Starfleets sets up a blockade, they tag everything in orbit with a tracker beacon. It's small, you have to know to look for it. Anything with a beacon is excluded from routine security sweeps." Riker paused. "If you get your hands on one of those beacons, a shuttle will go undetected, as long as it doesn't change course or accelerate too rapidly."

The room was silent for a moment before the man on the viewscreen spoke. "Let her up, Jason."

Katlin felt the hand on her shoulder relax. She stood, a bit wobbly in the knees.

"Mr. Riker, Ms. Pierce, I'm going to get you one of those beacons, and you'll take a shuttle through the blockade. If you make it to the moon, we can discuss some options. My agent will contact you tomorrow. Jason, see that they don't leave their rooms." The viewscreen went to blank.

"Katlin?" Riker asked quietly.

"I'm ok."

"Out," the guard demanded. They exited the sterile white room, the guard locking it behind them. "Walk." He followed them back into the elevator, pressed the button for the thirtieth floor, and saw them to the door of room 3078. Riker produced a key and opened the door on his second attempt. The door closed behind them.

"Are you hurt?" Riker asked, still facing the door.

"No," Katlin kicked out of her shoes with a sigh. The hotel room was carpeted, plush, comfortingly warm. She trailed her way across the sitting room to the bedroom, where she spotted the bags and hatboxes from Imogen's store. Her shopping trip seemed years ago. She fumbled through the bags to find a set of pajamas.

"Katlin?"

"Just a minute." Katlin found the bathroom and shut the door behind her. She leaned over the sink and took a deep breath, then turned the taps on and washed her face. She peeled out of her fancy dress and let it drop to the floor, pulling the on the flannel pants and shirt. God Bless Imogen.

Riker was waiting for her in the bedroom. "Let me see the back of your head."

"I'm fine," Katlin insisted.

"Pierce," he said, warningly.

Katlin sighed sat on the edge of the bed, turning her back to Riker. She felt him run a hand through her hair, parting it gently. Katlin winced as his fingers traced what was probably a bruise. "Is it bleeding?" she asked.

"No." Riker let his hand drop. "You okay, kiddo?"

"Yes." Katlin laid back on the bed with a sigh. "No going back now, huh?"

Riker laughed sarcastically. "No." He sat and pulled his boots off.

Katlin eyed the ceiling from her prone position. "It'll be ok," she said, more to herself.

Riker laid on his back beside her, folding his arms behind his head. "Of course it will, we're Starfleet."

"No," Katlin said, "One better. We're Pierce and Riker."

"You know, that has a nice ring to it." Riker reached out to turn off the light.

The room went dark. Quietly, and then with more and more conviction, Riker began to laugh.

"What's so funny?" Katlin asked.

"The bank dye," he said. "It must have been phosphorescent."

"What?"

"You're glowing."

Katlin held her hands out in front of her face. Her skin was emitting a soft, neon green. She sat up with a gasp. "My face, too?" she asked, feeling her cheeks.

"Yes!" Riker said, laughing. "You look like an Anduvian show-girl."

Katlin wailed quietly, through clenched teeth.

"No, it's very becoming, actually," Riker said, sitting up on one elbow.

Katlin fumbled for a pillow and then hit him with it. He caught her hand loosely. "Hey now, don't start, we've had a long day. Come on. Lay down." Katlin acquiesced with a grumble, then tucked her head under his chin. She felt him sigh. "Good night, little glow-worm," he said.


	5. Centuries

Katlin stirred, and without thinking, reached for Riker. Her fingers closed around empty sheets, and she realized she was alone. She sat up, a little groggy. "Riker?"

"In here."

Katlin tossed the sheets aside and made her way to the sitting room. Riker was lounging on the sofa, behind a wheeled cart loaded with food. "I ordered room service," he said, with his mouth full. He took another bite of his toast. "Hungry?"

"Starving." Katlin walked over to serve herself. She piled a plate high with eggs, potatoes, cheese, and then sat on an armchair to tuck in.

"There's coffee, too."

"Mm, thanks." Katlin realized she hadn't had a square meal in days. The food disappeared rapidly, and she helped herself to another plateful. "So what do we do now, wait?"

"I think so. That guard from last night is still outside our door, I saw him when they brought breakfast in." Riker poured a cup of coffee and offered it to her.

Katlin accepted it with both hands and blew over the surface. "Hmmm."

There was a knock at the door, and before they could respond, it opened. With a strut and a smirk, a young woman entered and sized them up. She was thin, wiry, with spiky black hair cropped close to her head. She had the large, black eyes that appeared to be common on Yvestalta. She was wearing a khaki flight suit and thick black vest. "You must be Will," she said. "And Katelin?"

"Katlin." Riker corrected her.

Xenia grinned. "Katlin. Whatever. I'm your contact. Ooh, donuts."

The woman walked to the cart and helped herself. "I'm Xenia, by the way," she said, between bites.

"Hi." Katlin said, warily. She'd been expected another creepy armored man.

"Yeah, hi, morning. So, Cal sent me one of those beacons last night. Already slapped it on the Cherry Blossom, so you two ready to jailbreak?" Xenia gave Katlin a look. "You have something other than jammies? Might be a bit drafty."

"I, uh, yeah, just a minute." Katlin set down her cup of coffee and went back into the bedroom to change. She bent over her shopping bags from yesterday, hoping Imogen hadn't thrown her dirty things away. She heard Riker enter and close the door behind her, but she didn't turn around. Pawing through the bags, she found her tough civilian clothes in the bottom of the last shopping bag, and they looked… well, clean. God Bless Imogen, how did she even get them washed that fast? Katlin pulled them on quickly, and stuffed her feet back into boots. Dressed, she turned to find Riker pulling his jacket on, back turned to her.

"All set?" he asked, over one shoulder.

"Yeah."

Riker nodded, then reached out to the dresser and opened the top drawer. "Here," he said, handing her a Type-L phaser.

"Woah," Katlin flipped open the barrel to examine the plasma core. "These are illegal." She snapped the barrel back into place, aimed at the floor and released and then reengaged the safety. "Where did you get this?"

"You're not the only one who went shopping," Riker said. He clipped his own phaser at the small of his back and draped his jacket over it, hiding the bulk. Katlin did the same.

"Ready?"

"Yeah." Katlin turned up her collar. "Yesterday we were bank robbers. Today we're pirates."

"Living the dream," Riker said, zipping his jacket.

* * *

The "Cherry Blossom," (as Xenia had christened her shuttle) was awaiting them on the launch pad. They'd had to trek twenty minutes through a thick forest to get to the pad – but then again, this wasn't exactly a legal departure point.

Katlin didn't think she could imagine a ship that looked _less_ like a "cherry blossom." It was a spheroid shuttle, gray and brown with rust. The paneling was peeling, and the engines looked ready to fall off the sides. "Should have brought some duct tape," Katlin muttered. Riker grunted.

Xenia strode to her shuttle, slapping it with one gloved hand. "She doesn't look like much, but she packs a punch where it counts." Xenia pulled the door release handle and it opened with a hiss. "Welcome aboard."

The inside of the shuttle was small. There was a cargo bay, filled with large, barreled drums. There was a sitting room with a small table, a few dim reading lamps and two swivel chairs bolted to the floor. "Emergency exit," Xenia said, indicating the release latch on the one window. "If we need to punch out, I keep pressure suits here," she said, indicating a locker on the wall. "Cockpit is through this door –" she led them to the small curved space between the rest of the cabin and the main window. There was a pilot and copilot's seat, and a crude helm. "Standard NS-S shuttlecraft, Excelsior model, top of the line."

Katlin grimaced. Top of the line? She wiped a hand across the grimy controls, which, despite their dirt, looked standard enough. "We should be able to handle this," Katlin said.

"Yeah, of course, your majesty." Xenia rolled her eyes. "Now, if you two are ready to go, we can hit the skies."

"Let's get this over with." Riker sat in the copilot's seat and pulled the harness down across his chest.

Xenia elbowed Katlin slightly out of the way as she sat in the pilot's seat. "There's a third harness back in cargo bay."

"Fine," Katlin exited the cockpit and went to find the promised harness. On the wall, between barrels, she found the jump seat and strapped herself in. The buckle was reluctant to click in place, and Katlin sent a prayer to the Gods of Starfleet that the ship would fly without falling to pieces.

There must be an intercom on the ship, because Xenia's voice suddenly echoed through the cargo bay. "All set back there?"

"Yes!" Katlin called out, in a random direction.

"Ten to liftoff." Engines began to whine. "Nine – eight –" The cargo bay began to shudder violently. Katlin wrapped her hands around her harness. "Four – three – two –" The engine noise drowned out the last of the countdown, and Katlin felt the violent tug at her stomach as the spacecraft launched. She was pressed against the back of her seat, and she closed her eyes and grit her teeth against the sudden onslaught of G-force. Not quite as smooth as the Enterprise.

Katlin was grateful when, a few moments later, the ship hit orbit. The engines quieted and the shaking dulled to a slight tremor.

Xenia appeared in the cargo bay. "You can unbuckle. We're in a slow orbit."

Katlin struggled out of her seat.

Xenia walked to the far end of the cargo bay, and gazed out a small porthole. "Your tracker beacon seems to be working. Normally we'd have been scanned by now, at least." Xenia smiled back at her. "Well, since we can't do anything but pretend to be an asteroid, let's kill the time. Cards?"

"Is Riker –" Katlin started to ask.

"He's piloting. He's fine. C'mon, sit." She sat at the small table at the end of the cargo bay and produced a deck of cards. "Caldonian pick six?"

"Sure." Katlin sat and Xenia shuffled the cards and dealt.

"So how's a nice girl like you end up running Critter?" Xenia asked.

Katlin arranged her cards in her hand. "I could ask you the same question."

"What makes you think there's drugs in those barrels?" Xenia asked. "The moon has been cut off for three weeks, we're running dehydrated meals and bandages." She played a pair of aces.

"Oh, so we're _feeding _the criminals. Much better." Katlin played a pair of fives.

"Criminals? You mean the Yllium miners? You know most of us were _born_ on the moon? I was." Xenia played another five and won the hand. She collected the cards. "My sister's on the moon. She's only twelve." Xenia glanced at the barrels. "She's hungry."

Katlin fell quiet, contemplating her hand.

"Don't get me wrong," Xenia said, laying down another pair of cards. "I've got no love for Cal. He's …" Xenia sighed. "He has a way of finding out what's important to you, and holding it over you."

"Your sister?" Katlin asked quietly.

Xenia nodded.

"What's her name?"

"Lysta." Xenia shook her head. "She'll be alright. At least once we get these barrels to the moon." Xenia smiled. "And don't let me get too self-righteous. I'm pretty sure that orange barrel in the back is Critter."

Katlin laughed.

"You know, I'd love to be the one to take Cal out." Xenia unbuttoned a pocket on her vest and pulled out a throwing star. "It's poisoned," she said, holding it up to the light. "One day his back will be turned." She put the star back in her pocket and buttoned her pocket carefully. Xenia picked up her cards again. "Your turn."

Distracted, Katlin played a bad card.

A few hours – and more than a few rounds of Caldonian pick six later – Riker's voice came over the intercom. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is your Captain speaking." Katlin felt a smile tug at the corner of her mouth. "We'll be past the blockade and entering the moon's orbit in a few moments. Please prepare accordingly."

Xenia stretched. "Why do you go and check on Riker? There's something I have to take care of." Xenia glanced at the orange barrel in the back.

Katlin paused, then turned away. "Okay." She clambered into the cockpit.

"There you are," Riker said, guiding the ship past the last few asteroids. "You alright?"

Katlin leaned over the controls, eyeing the approaching moon. "Yes. Xenia seems… nice enough."

Riker flipped a couple of landing beacon switches. "Watch yourself once we're on the moon. It's the wild west out here."

Katlin clapped his shoulder. "Pirates, Riker. We can play cowboys tomorrow."

Riker chuckled.

They docked on the moon, guided by automatic landing lights. As the engines died, an automated jetbridge extended from the nearest building and sealed itself to the exterior of their shuttle. Xenia checked the airlock and opened the shuttle door, and they exited the craft. The jet bridge was brightly lit, but gray and uninviting. The air was stale, and hummed with the sound of industrial fans. Once off the bridge, the building was not much more welcoming, with tall gray concrete walls, and flickering, light from uneven electric bulbs.

"This way," Xenia said, guiding them through a series of gray corridors. "I know Cal wants to meet you." They paused in front of a steel, industrial door, and Xenia flipped a comswitch. "Xenia and friends to see Cal."

There was a pause, and then door slid back with a hiss.

Katlin took a breath. The throne room – and it could only be called a throne room – was echoingly large, empty, and contained a single raised dias with high-backed chair made of shimmering silver metal. It was pearlescent, like the inside of an oyster shell. Atop the throne, like a crown jewel, a purple sphere was rotating slowly, suspended in a magnetic field. Katlin recognized it from the briefing – the Yllium detonator. It glowed softly, casting rotating purple shadows across the floor and the man that sat on the throne. Cal – the same sneering, blonde, pale man from the videoscreen – lounged across the seat.

"His throne's entirely Yllium," Xenia whispered. "Can you imagine anything more ostentatious?" They started to approach but were stopped by two armed guards.

"Arms up," the nearest guard barked. Riker and Katlin raised their arms, and the guards frisked them, easily finding the phasers clipped at their backs. Cal pushed himself up from his throne lazily, approaching at a slow saunter.

The guard who had frisked Katlin held her phaser out to Cal for inspection. He laughed. "This is all?" He flapped one hand in dismissal and the guard returned the phaser to Katlin, who clipped it at the back of her belt. "Dismissed," Cal said, and the guards left.

Cal turned back to the three of them. "Well, you've managed to get past the blockade." Cal's voice was low, leering.

"At your service," Riker spat.

"I expected nothing less from Starfleet." Cal smirked. "Oh, excuse me, ex-starfleet. Your supplies are most welcome. All that's left now is our little test."

"Test?" Xenia took a step backwards.

"You know the rules, Xenia." Cal stood and unbuttoned a clip at his belt. He removed a med-array and held it in front of him as he approached. "Can't have any of my operatives running hot."

"What do you mean, hot?" Katlin asked.

"You haven't been dipping into the product, have you?"

"Critter?" Katlin asked. "Never."

"Good. Then you won't object to a blood test."

Katlin glanced at Riker, who nodded. She held out her hand. Cal clipped the med-array around her index finger. Katlin winced as a needle pierced her skin. The med-array chimed.

"Clean," Cal said. "I expected nothing less."

Riker held out his hand. The med-array clamped around his finger, and chimed. Cal smiled.

Xenia took a deep breath. "C'mon Cal, how long have I known you? This is insulting."

"Protocol, Xenia," Cal said.

"This is ridiculous," Xenia said. "We've got deadlines. I have to be back on the surface."

"Xenia," Cal said, warningly.

Xenia made a move to leave, but Cal grabbed her hand and jammed it into the med-array. The machine whirred, and then made a dull, bleak tone. Cal pulled a gun from a holster beneath his arm and shot Xenia, point blank, through the temple.

"No!" The scream tore through Katlin's throat involuntarily.

Xenia collapsed, seeming in slow motion. She hit the floor lifelessly, eyes staring unseeing.

Riker grabbed Katlin's arm as she made a lurch for the fallen girl. "No!" she felt a gasp tearing at her lungs. "Xenia!" She wretched herself out of Riker's grasp and fell to her knees beside the unmoving woman. "No," she whispered.

Xenia remained unmoving. A puddle of dark blood bloomed around her head.

"Good news for you two - I now have an opening in my shuttle department." Cal turned to walk back to his throne. _One day his back will turned._ Katlin suddenly remembered the poisoned throwing star. She unbuttoned the pocket on Xenia's jacket, and removed the star with trembling hands. Still from her kneeling position, she sized up Cal's back, took a breath, and threw.

The star made a slightly whirr as it cut through the air. Cal started to turn, startled, and then the star hit his shoulder. He jerked slightly, and gasped quietly. Then, without another sound, he collapsed to the gray concrete.

"What –" Riker demanded. "What have you –"

"Get the detonator!" Katlin said, rising.

Riker hauled himself to stand on the armrest of Cal's thrown, and plucked the detonator from its perch. A siren began to sound. "Catch!" He said, and tossed the detonator to Katlin, who caught it deftly and zipped it inside her jacket. Riker jumped down from the throne.

Alarms kept sounding, but no one had entered the throne room. "Time to go, Pierce."

"Couldn't agree more," Katlin said, as they slid the door to the throne room open. Riker unclipped the phaser from his belt, and Katlin followed suit. Riker peered out the door. "Go! I'll cover you."

Katlin ran to the next outcropping, but no one fired on her. The corridor remained suspiciously empty. She leveled her phaser. "Go!" She kept her phaser trained behind him as he ran, but no one seemed to be guarding this corridor. They ran to the Cherry Blossom unimpeded.

"This is a bit too easy," Katlin said as she strapped herself beside Riker in the cockpit, flipping the ignition switches on her side of the panel.

"Didn't I ever teach you not to say things like that?" Riker demanded, throwing the engines on. "Hold tight." He slammed the accelerator and the ship tore away from the moon's surface.

Almost immediately, laser blasts erupted behind them. Riker put the craft in a spin to avoid them. "See? What did I tell you?"

"Fourteen ion cannons aimed this way," Katlin said, reading the trisilliscope. "And," she swore. "The USS Argonaut is arming photon torpedoes."

Riker banked the craft hard to their left, swerving around several asteroids. "Open a channel."

Katlin found the hailing frequencies. "Channel open."

"USS Argonaut! This is Commander Riker of the Enterprise! Hold your fire, we have the detonator!"

"Don't threaten them!" Katlin yelled over the sound of the engines whining.

"I'm not threatening them!" Riker yelled back.

"They don't know that!" Katlin screamed. "Photon torpedoes armed! Mother-" The rest of her expletive was lost as the ship shook violently with impact. The ship spun twice, and Katlin grimaced against the G-force. A siren within the ship began to wail. "Riker, we're losing hull integrity!" Another hit and they'd be space fodder. Katlin unbuttoned her harness.

"Pierce!"

"Pressure suits!" She screamed. She flung herself into the cargo bay as Riker barrel-rolled the craft to avoid another laser blast from the moon. Katlin ran along the rotating wall until she came to the locker with the pressure suits. She tore it open and chose two at random. She was flung against the far side of the craft as Riker rolled again. Swearing profusely, Katlin jammed her feet into and arms into a suit, pulling the hooded helmet over the back of her head. She slapped the activator on her chest and felt the suit inflate around herself. "Welcome to Air Riker," she muttered, running back to the cockpit along what had previously been the ceiling. "In case of emergency, always put on your own ejector suit before helping others."

She slammed herself back into the cockpit, which was now upside down to her perspective. The anti-grav must be failing. Riker banked around another asteroid and she fell "up" beside him. She struggled to a sitting position and tossed the second suit to Riker. "Get in!" She screamed. "I'll drive."

She flipped control over to her side of the cockpit and veered around an asteroid. Riker unbuckled himself and began to suit up. A viewscreen clamored for Katlin's attention, and Katlin swore as she saw another photon torpedo heading their way. She pulled out of a dive to avoid the blast. Riker, unharnessed, pitched forward at the waist. His helmeted head hit the viewscreen with a crack.

Katlin leveled the shuttle and swerved left and right, avoiding the larger asteroids. Smaller pieces of the asteroid belt pelted the shuttle like rain. "Riker, are you in?" A third photon torpedo was being armed. Katlin glanced over at Riker, who was slumped forward, unmoving, his pressure suit uninflated. "Riker? RIKER?" A laser blast erupted from the moon. The Argonaut released a torpedo. Five seconds to impact. Alarms were screaming throughout the craft. Katlin cocked her arm and aimed a punch straight at Riker's chest, throwing all her weight behind the blow. The activator panel on his suit locked into place beneath her fist.

The craft exploded.

The explosive decompression launched Katlin into space, and she felt small asteroids pelting her back. She began to tumble wildly, accelerating towards the planet's surface.

Stabilizers. Stabilizers! Katlin fought with the unfamiliar suit to find the stabilizer switch. She threw it, and was rewarded when the gyroscope locked into place and she stopped spinning, and instead sped in a straight line towards the planet. She faced forward, snaking her way through the asteroid belt. The viewscreen on her helmet chimed in helpfully. Five miles above the surface. Where was Riker? She swiveled on her back, staring at the wreckage of the craft behind her. No sign of another orange pressure suit.

An asteroid hit her shoulder, pitching her back towards the planet. She scanned the horizon below her. There! "Riker!" Katlin screamed, helplessly into her helmet. He was several hundred feet below her, tumbling towards the surface. Katlin grit her teeth and tilted herself forward into an even faster dive. "C'mon," she snarled. "C'mon…."

Two point five miles above the surface, she crashed into his midsection, and wrapped both arms around his waist. The stabilizers on her suit slowed their tumbling, and Katlin was able to position herself below him, relative to the planet. Katlin, her fingers clumsy in the pressure suit, gripped his harness with one hand and fought to get a hold of his parachute release with the other. They hit the atmosphere, and Katlin could feel air buffeting around them. "Don't die," she prayed, and pulled the ripcord on his parachute.

His chute exploded from his back, and the sudden drag wrenched him from her grasp.

One point three miles above the surface. Katlin rolled back to face the planet and pulled her own chute. It deployed with a satisfying WHUMP and Katlin's neck snapped back as her free fall slowed. She plunged through a cloudbank, and was rewarded with a view of grassy field beneath her. A few seconds to ready herself, and then she made a running landing, her parachute settling peacefully behind her.

Thirty yards to her right, Riker's parachute was collapsing around his unmoving form.

Katlin ran, releasing her chute, wrenching her helmet off and tossing it aside. She could see Riker, face down, slowly push himself on to his forearms.

Her heart turned over as she ran. He was alive. Riker, shaking forearms failing him, collapsed back down and then rolled on his back. Katlin threw herself beside him and fumbled with his helmet. She retracted his visor, revealing a wincing Riker. He groaned.

Katlin took hold of both sides of his helmet. "Riker, oh God, Riker, are you okay?"

He opened his eyes to squint at her. "Pierce, the hell did you do to me?"

Katlin laughed and rested her forehead against his helmet. "Saved your life, I think."

"Is that so?" Riker smiled and closed his eyes. "Much appreciated."

"Anytime." Katlin smiled. "Guys like you don't just fall out of the sky, you know."

Riker groaned. "Pierce, that was – I think I could have you court marshaled for that. Let me up." He propped himself up on one arm, and then sat upright. He pulled off his helmet and ran a hand over his head. "Where's the detonator?"

Katlin patted her chest. "Still got it."

"That's my girl."

Sirens in the distance began to wail. Katlin stood and offered a hand to Riker. He rose on shaking knees and draped an arm around her shoulders for balance. Katlin shaded her eyes with one hand as several police hovercars came bounding over the nearest hills. The cars screetched to a halt in front of them, and an officer sprung from the car, using the door as a shield. He crouched and leveled his phaser at the two of them. "F-freeze!" he stuttered. "Hands above your head!"

Katlin sighed. "He means us?"

Riker grinned. "I think so."

They raised their hands in surrender.


	6. Stay

The police station was – well, quaint, Katlin thought. Riker and Katlin, still in their bulky ejector suits, were handcuffed and told to sit on a wooden bench while a rather overwhelmed clerk tried to figure out which form to file. Katlin had declared the detonator and they'd unzipped her jacket and removed it with shaking hands, placing it in an overflowing inbox, like a paperweight. It was still glowing a soft purple.

Katlin smiled and kicked her legs. "It's like being outside the principal's office in grade school."

"You? In trouble? Shocking."

"Mm-hm," Katlin said. "I got in a fight with Alan Fitzgerald. Poor kid never stood a chance."

Riker chuckled, and shifted, testing the tightness of his handcuffs. "You know, this is the second time I've been handcuffed next to you."

Katlin giggled. "Next time I'll make sure one of us has their hands free."

Riker turned to her, eyebrows raised, and gave her an appraising glance. "You've got a dirty mind, Pierce."

"You like it." Katlin challenged.

"Maybe a little." Riker glanced over her head and his grin faded. "Ok, now we're in trouble."

Katlin turned to see Captain Picard and Lieutenant Worf enter the station. She felt her grin freeze awkwardly on her face.

"Captain," Riker said, by way of greeting.

Picard cleared his throat. "You two have been on this planet for fifty-six hours, and in that time you have amassed fourteen felonies."

Katlin looked back at Riker and pouted. "That seems a bit high."

"It does, doesn't it?" Riker agreed.

Picard accepted a PADD from Worf. "Assault and battery of a security officer at Impta Bank. Armed robbery at the same. Theft of 1.24 _million_ credits –"

Riker whistled.

Picard continued "Armed grand theft auto. Passing stolen credits."

"Heh," Katlin shrugged.

"Purchase of two Type-L phasers."

"That one's on me," Riker volunteered.

"Smuggling of a class-4 restricted substance."

"Joint effort," Katlin said, and Riker nodded his agreement.

"Illegal planetary egress. Violating neutral airspace. Failure to declare supplies during a blockade. Impersonating a Starfleet officer."

"Oh, come on!" Riker groaned.

"Making verbal terroristic threats. Supra-orbital debris deposition."

"Debris depos…You mean when they blew us up?" Katlin asked, eyebrows raised.

"Illegal planetary re-entry, and trespass in a public park after hours." Picard finished with a sigh. "Do you have anything to say for yourselves?"

Katlin and Riker exchanged a glance, and then looked back at the captain. Katlin gave a pained smile. "Ta-daaa?" she volunteered. Riker choked on a laugh.

Picard frowned. "Despite your otherwise unlawful activities, the government has reacted … favorably to the recovery of the Yllium detonator. In fact, they are holding a celebration in your honor, tomorrow evening."

A police sergeant approached. "Sir? Madam? You're free to go." He unlocked their handcuffs, and Katlin and Riker both rubbed their wrists.

Picard sighed. "I'm returning to the Enterprise. You two still have to be formally reinstated into Starfleet, and I have…" he glanced back at the list of felonies. "Some explaining to do. In the mean time, you two will stay here. There is an escort waiting for you outside." Picard turned to leave, and then hesitated. "I'll be back tomorrow evening. I do NOT want to see another felony on this list before then."

"Do our best," Riker promised.

Katlin gave a thumbs up with a solemn nod.

Picard turned away, with a look on his face that suggested he was struggling not to roll his eyes.

The escort waiting outside turned out to be a stretch-hovercar, twice the size of a normal car, with tinted black windows. Katlin hummed appreciatively. "Save a planet, get a limo."

A driver appeared from around the car and opened the door for them. Katlin clambered inside, a little awkwardly in her ejector suit. Riker followed behind her, and the door shut behind them. A small rumble let them know the car was moving.

The inside of the car was lit with low, blue light, and Katlin flounced on the leather seat, as big a sofa. "Not bad."

Riker unzipped his suit, shucking out of it with a sigh. "Not bad at all," he agreed, arranging himself on the opposing sofa-seat.

Katlin pulled at the boots of her ejector suit, and it finally came away with a _whump_. She stretched and grinned.

Riker noticed a mini-bar and was lazily flipping through the selection of snacks. "Peanuts, pretzels, t'orgna, popcorn?"

"Ooh, popcorn."

Riker sat back and opened the bag. He selected a kernel and held it up. "Open up."

With a giggle, Katlin closed her eyes and opened her mouth wide. She felt the popcorn glance off her forehead.

"You have to keep your eyes open, Pierce!"

Katlin opened her eyes. "Okay, okay. Go." She opened her mouth and snatched and the next kernel. She missed.

"You're terrible at this."

"Your aim is bad."

"Open wider."

"Can't!" The next piece of popcorn caught Katlin in the eye. She flinched. Riker laughed and tossed a piece up for himself, catching in his mouth with a snap.

"Not so hard," he said, chewing.

"That's 'cause you've got a big mouth."

"True." He tossed another kernel for himself.

"I'm _hungry,_" Katlin complained.

"So am I." Riker continued to feed himself.

"I saved your life," Katlin reminded him.

"I suppose you did," Riker said, handing over the rest of the bag. Katlin leaned forward to take it.

"Thanks," she pulling out a fistful and chomping down.

Riker scrounged at the snack bar and came up with a box of peanuts. He shifted out a handful and tossed them back, chewing thoughtfully. "You think these windows can be untinted?"

"Dunno." Katlin looked around and located a panel of buttons. The first button she tried changed the lighting from blue to red. The second blared out music and she pressed it again frantically. The third button untinted the windows slowly, and the setting sun filled the car.

Riker sat back, looking out the window. "Pierce, come look at this."

Katlin wiped her hands on her pants and ducked as she walked over. Glancing backwards out the window, Katlin gasped. "Oh, wow."

The car was speeding along a narrow bridge that was spanning deep ocean waters. White cliffs in the distance were lit with the orange and red glow of the sunset. Long-tailed sea birds soared along the cliffs, spiraling and diving in long, swooping patterns. A wash crashed against the cliff and the sea-green foam broke into dazzling shards of light. Katlin hummed in appreciation. She felt Riker tugging at her arm gently, and she sat back beside him. "It's beautiful," she said. Riker shifted and put an arm around her. Katlin leaned her head back against his shoulder, still watching the waves as the broke across the cliff. They sat in silent appreciation.

Not long after, they arrived at their destination, and the driver opened the door for the two of them. Katlin exited and stretched, then stared up in awe at the building before her.

"Building" was the wrong word. This was more like a city made of white marble, with terraces and turrets of stone draped with fragrant flowers and fountains of clear water. "Whoa," Katlin said, craning her neck.

"Welcome to Yvestalta City," the driver said.

A trio of men approached the car. The most rotund of the three shook Riker's hand enthusiastically. "William Riker, welcome, I am Ambassador Rio, and these are my associates Mr. Steen and Mr. Villap. Welcome, welcome." He nodded, smiling. "And you must be Katelin."

"Katlin," Riker corrected.

"Yes, certainly, well, you two heroes must have had a long day. Please, we will show you to your quarters."

The entered the city-like building at a brisk walk, and Katlin was quickly exhausted by the seemingly unending parade of hallways and ballrooms and galleries, before they finally arrived at a plainer row of doors – the guest quarters.

"Your room is number 4," the ambassador said, and Riker and Katlin made a move to enter. The ambassador put out an arm to stop Katlin. "This is Mr. Riker's room," he said gently, and Katlin felt a blush run up her face.

Riker winked at Katlin. "Goodnight, Pierce."

Katlin grimaced at him sarcastically.

"This way, miss," the ambassador said, leading her down the hallway and around a corner. "You are in number 8." He opened the door. "Please, if there is anything we can do to make your stay more pleasant, do not hesitate to ask."

"Thank you," Katlin said, as he closed the door behind her.

The room was silent. That was the first thing that Katlin noticed – not the plush white carpet, not the ornate bed, not the state-of-the art replicator in the wall, not the beautiful framed paintings on the wall – but the silence. She stood for a moment, unnerved.

Katlin shook her head and explored her room. She found the bathroom and started at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was still a silvery-blue and she stared for a moment at the stranger in the mirror. Struck with sudden inspiration, she turned the light off and was rewarded with the reflection of her still faintly glowing skin. She wasn't quite as phosphorescent as before, but she was still undeniably glowing.

Katlin turned the light back on. "Well, we can fix that, at least," she said, turning the shower on full blast.

A thorough scrubbing later, Katlin emerged from the shower. Her hair was back to its natural blonde, and when she turned off the light nothing glowed. She flicked the light back on and toweled herself dry, satisfied. She went to the replicator for pajamas, and then a dinner of macaroni and cheese.

Laying back in her bed, Katlin stared at the ceiling restlessly. She was tired, but sleep wouldn't come. She rolled on one side, and bunched up her bedclothes, biting absently at her clenched fist. Something was nagging at her consciousness, a half-formed thought, a nameless worry.

Katlin finally sat up and flounced out of bed. She replicated herself a simple pair of pants and a blouse, pulled on her boots, and exited her room.

The hallway was dimly lit, and people passed at regular intervals, greeting her with a nod and a smile. Katlin choose a direction and walked.

As she passed a corridor, she felt a warm night breeze flow through her hair. She turned and followed it.

There was a small inner courtyard, moonlit and serene. Tall fronds waved gently in the summer breeze. The center of the courtyard featured a small pond surrounded by a sloping beach of smooth stones. A fountain gurgled in the middle. As her eyes adjusted to the moonlight, Katlin saw a figure rise up from the far edge of the pond.

Riker.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked, gently.

"No." Katlin kicked at a pebble and it plopped into the pond. "I can't shake the feeling that – " she bit her lip. "That something's left unfinished."

Riker held out a hand and Katlin circled the pond to take it.

"That's what an away mission feels like," Riker said. "You're going at warp 10 and then suddenly it's over. It can be disconcerting, to say the least." He brushed a strand of hair from her face. "It's like an addiction. You get a taste of adrenaline and then everything else pales by comparison."

"So then how do you deal with the calm?"

"Find something to take the edge off." He ran the back of his fingers along Katlin's chin. "Any suggestions?"

Katlin could feel her pulse hammering at her neck. "How would I know? I'm not the one with the problem."

Riker ran a thumb over her bottom lip. "No?"

"No." Katlin struggled to catch her breath.

Riker smiled. "Are you sure about that?"

Katlin could feel her knees trembling. "No."

"Can I help you decide?"

"Yes." Katlin blurted out. Riker bent forward. Katlin turned her face up towards his.

"Commander Riker." A voice cut through the summer night.

They broke apart guiltily. Ambassador Steelax – the tall, dark woman who had given them this assignment - was framed in the doorway to the courtyard. "Forgive the… intrusion, but I have just arrived. Your presence is requested for a videoconference. There are a few remaining questions about your mission."

Riker cleared his throat. "Of course." He looked down at Katlin.

"Go," she said.

He nodded and left with the ambassador.

Katlin blew out a long sigh and collapsed to a seat at the edge of the pond. She drew her knees to her chest and put her forehead down. "Crap," she said, quietly, to herself. It was a few moments before she drew herself up, dusted herself off, and made her way back to her guest quarters.

She entered and locked the door behind herself. "In and stay in," she told herself, and turned her back on the door.


	7. Chandelier

It was a long time before Katlin found any sleep, and when she finally did the windowless room ensured it was the middle of the afternoon before she woke up. Katlin fumbled for a clock. _Fifteen hundred hours?_ she thought. _Are you kidding me?_

On the nightstand next to her bed, a PADD was chiming for her attention. Nineteen messages. One from Captain Picard, noting that she had been successfully reinstated in Starfleet. One from Ambassador Rio, informing her that the dinner would begin at eighteen hundred hours. And the last sixteen messages were from her mother. Katlin groaned dismissed the remaining letters until later. She didn't think she could deal with her mother, on top of everything.

Katlin rose to order some coffee from the replicator, but found that it was already filled with a white cardboard box. Giving it a sleepy stink-eye, she put in on a table to open it.

There was a note inside. "You look good in blue," with the word "in" struck through.

Beneath the note was a blue dress, and Katlin pulled it up by the shoulders. Despite herself, she gasped. Sleeveless, it had a flowing cowl neckline of sheer, shimmering blue, with crystals sewn into the fabric. It was floor length, and Katlin swung it around to see that it was backless, but with a trailing shawl that could be wrapped around for warmth – or modesty. Katlin bit her lip and then stuffed the dress back into the box. She could decide later.

Coffee first. Katlin replicated a large breakfast, and sat at her table, trying to eat. After a while she threw her fork down in disgust and had a lengthy shower. Afterwards, she sat with her hair in a towel, flipping through the replicator manual. A nice black dress, she thought. No, a dress uniform. Even better. She ordered up a standard command dress uniform and put it on. She sized herself up in the mirror.

_Like a toy soldier. _She thought. She glanced back at the blue dress, still spilling out of its box. Well, no harm in trying it on.

Katlin shucked out of the stiff uniform and pulled the dress over her head. Katlin stared at her reflection.

The dress matched her eyes exactly. Katlin swallowed. She looked beautiful. She pulled the shawl up over her back and threw it around her neck, and the extra fabric only added to her allure. She imagined what Riker would say, his smug grin, his knowing look. Katlin started to pull the dress off, and then hesitated.

What are you afraid of? Katlin asked herself. You've robbed a bank, smuggled drugs, exploded out of a shuttlecraft and kissed William T. Riker two – no, three times! She turned to see the back of the dress. Dammit, it looked amazing. She gave herself a smile over one shoulder. You know what? Geronimo.

She pinned her hair up and left to find the party.

It wasn't hard. The sound of music led her down the hallways, to the main ballroom. It was an enormous rotunda, and Yvestaltians milled on the main floor and on a balcony lining the rotunda. The entire room was lit with brilliant chandeliers, and Katlin blinked at the glow. Waiters dressed in all black wove through the crowd, balancing trays of champagne. A ten-piece band played in the corner, and brightly dressed guests waltzed in time to the music.

In the center of the rotunda, on a raised dais, the Yllium detonator was rotating slowly, the purple light sending odd colored shadows across the floor. Katlin stared. It made her uneasy. Surely something like that should be locked away, not put on display like a trophy? Katlin was struck by the sudden image of Xenia, lying dead on the floor, blood pooling around her head. Katlin shook her head to clear the thought and took a glass of champagne from the nearest waiter. She downed it in three long gulps and set the glass aside. She coughed, and raised her head to scan the crowd.

Most of the people were completely unfamiliar, but there were a few Starfleet generals and admirals Katlin thought she recognized. And then she spotted Riker, across the room.

He was dressed in a black tunic – not exactly a dress uniform, but cut along the same lines, with the gold pips of his rank buttoned on the high collar. Katlin felt her pulse quicken at the sight of him. He was leaning against a bar, shoulders at that unmistakable awkward angle, hands folded, smiling at the Yvestaltian woman talking to him. As if he could sense her eyes, Riker looked up and caught Katlin's glance. His smile widened and he held up on finger. Just a minute.

Katlin nodded, feeling a slow smile spread across her face.

"You should be honored," a voice said at her shoulder.

"I- what?" Katlin turned to see Ambassador Steelax standing beside her in a gray dress. "Oh, hello, Ambassador."

The ambassador sipped at her drink. "The president and vice-president of Yvestalta are here," the Ambassador said, pointing out two dark-eyed women towards the other end of the rotunda. "And the minister of finance, and defense. You've done our planet a great service."

"Thank you – I am honored."

The ambassador took another sip, regarding her with dark, unreadable eyes. "But I feel the need to warn you."

"Warn me?"

"William Riker has a reputation for a reason, you know."

"I – I- " Katlin stammered.

"Men like him are very good at what they do," the ambassador said quietly. "They've had a lot of practice. They can make you feel special, like you're the only one they _really_ care about."

Katlin felt the blood drain from her face.

The ambassador put a hand on her shoulder. "Has he taken advantage of you?"

"No!" Katlin said.

"Well, if he hasn't laid a hand on you yet, he's planning to. It's an addiction. He'll take his hit and move on. You know that, don't you?"

Katlin made a strangled noise.

"Be on your guard." The ambassador looked past her. "Greetings, Admiral Walker, General Bobi."

Katlin glanced up and nodded at the Admiral and the General, both of whom were wearing dress uniforms. Katlin suddenly regretted wearing the blue dress.

"And here's the man of the hour," Admiral Walker said.

Katlin turned to find Riker behind her, holding two glasses of champagne. He smiled and handed one to Katlin. She took it with trembling fingers.

"Admiral, General," Riker greeted them both with a smile and a handshake. "But please, most of the credit goes to this one here." Riker put an arm around Katlin.

"Really?" The admiral said with a laugh. "She looks far too straight-laced to have caused this much trouble."

"Oh, don't let that demure face fool you," Riker said. "She loosens up after a few drinks." Riker slapped her back and Katlin sloshed her champagne. Everyone laughed but her.

"Makes me wish I was a young man again," the admiral said, taking a drink.

"Get in line," Riker said. "I'm not finished with her yet."

Katlin set her drink down so hard the stem cracked. "I need some air." She pulled herself from Riker's grip.

She shouldered her way through the crowd, trying to catch her breath, trying to ignore the sudden pounding in her head. Riker's words echoed in her ears. _I'm not finished with her yet._

She found a stone balcony open to the outside air, and she braced herself against the railing, gulping at the warm summer air. The sound of the party was muted behind her. A bird warbled from the gardens. The sun began to set and Katlin grit her teeth as it slipped below the horizon.

"Katlin?"

She didn't turn around. She didn't want Riker to see her face. She heard his footsteps approach. She turned her head away.

"You know," Riker said, leaning against the balustrade. "Your skin is still glowing."

"It is not," Katlin growled.

"It is to me." Riker paused. "Listen, Katlin, I've been thinking, maybe when we get back to the Enterprise we could put in for some shore leave together. You know. Rob a few banks, steal a few cars." He smiled. "Have a little fun."

Katlin turned to him, eyes blazing. "After you've gotten a few drinks in me, though, right?"

Riker stood up, and took a step back to size up her face. "Katlin?"

"What kind of thing was that to say?" Katlin demanded. "And in front of an admiral?"

"I was only joking," Riker said.

"I know you were only joking!" Katlin spat. "That's all you ever do."

Riker stared at her. "What's gotten in to you?"

"Nothing."

"Katlin," he reached for her.

"You know what, just stay back." Katlin stepped backwards, out of his reach.

Riker paused. He cleared his throat. "I thought you wanted –"

"I've changed my mind." Katlin snapped.

"Because you can't take a joke?" Riker's voice tightened.

"Because I won't BE a joke."

"You don't think I'm sincere?"

Katlin searched his eyes. "I think you think you're sincere."

Riker laughed sarcastically. "But you know better."

Katlin steeled herself. "How many women are better off because they knew you, William?"

Riker fell silent. The party behind them continued in a soft murmur. He stared at her, jaw clenched. When he spoke, his voice was strained. "It's Commander Riker then, Lieutenant," he said.

"What?"

"Isn't that what you want now? A strictly _professional_ relationship?"

"Yes!" Katlin snarled.

"Yes, what?" Riker demanded.

"Yes, sir!" Katlin gave him a mocking salute.

"Dismissed, Lieutenant." Riker made it sound like a slur.

Katlin grabbed dual handfuls of her skirt and stormed off. There was a staircase at the side of the balcony and she took the steps two at a time, not caring where they led. She brushed past a pair of Yvestaltians and fled into the gardens.

She finally found a place to hide. Set back from a statue of a Yvestaltian woman, there was a small stone bench nearly surrounded by shrubbery. She sat, stuffing her fist into her mouth, trying to muffle her sobs. The sun had truly set, and the gardens were dark, lit only by fireflies and the soft glow of the party behind her.

She heard footsteps approaching, and she held her breath, wiping the tears from her face. She wouldn't let Riker catch her like this, that was for sure.

The footsteps approached the opening in her hedge.

But it wasn't Riker.

It was Xenia.

Katlin froze.

Xenia smiled up at the statue, the glow from the party illuminating her face. She reached into her shoulder bag and pulled out a small silver disk, affixing it to the base of the statue. She moved on.

Katlin's heart began to pound. Xenia was dead. Dead. Katlin listened as the footsteps faded, and then slunk silently out of the hedge. She approached the statue, and pulled at the silver disk. It came away in her hand. She held it up to the dim light, but it looked unremarkable. She closed her fist around the disk, and fled back towards the rotunda.

As she pounded up the steps to the balcony, she noticed another silver disk, this one affixed to the side of the stairs. She snatched it. On the balcony, she found three more.

Katlin hurried into the rotunda, where party was still going full-force. Katlin nearly tackled the nearest waiter. "Tell me," she said, out of breath. "Has Captain Picard arrived?"

"No," the waiter said, narrowing his eyes as he looked at her.

Katlin groaned uneasily. "Where is Commander Riker?"

"I believe he has retired for the evening."

Katlin ran.

She skidded down the guest corridor and halted outside Riker's door. She pounded against the wood. "Riker! Riker, get up, I need to talk to you! Now!" She tried the handle. It was locked. She pounded harder. "William Riker, unlock this door! NOW!" She screamed in frustration, throwing her shoulder against the door.

The handle on the door turned from the inside and Katlin stepped back. The door opened to reveal Ambassador Steelax, her dress unbuttoned to the waist. Katlin started. "Oh," she said.

"We're busy," the ambassador said.

Katlin paused for a moment. "I don't care!" she yelped. She attempted to push past the ambassador. "Riker, I need to talk to you!"

Riker's voice echoed from inside the room. "Just get out of here, Katelin."

Katlin froze.

The ambassador smirked and slammed the door in her face.


	8. My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark

_Oh, shit._

Katlin stared at the closed door in front of her. Think, she told herself. _Think think think think think._ Everyone got her name wrong. Everyone. Grade school teachers, Starfleet professors, Starbucks baristas, shuttle pilots, admirals, ambassadors, everyone called her Katelin.

Except for one person. And he was behind a locked door, and he wasn't alone.

_Just get out of here, Katelin._

Katlin turned slowly and walked away, trying not to telegraph her panic. That was on purpose, she was sure of it. _Just get out of here, Katelin_. He'd meant to get her name wrong – why? To belittle her?

No, she said to herself. To tell her that something was very, very wrong.

Katlin turned the corner to her guest room, opening the door with shaking hands. She closed the door and locked it behind her. She had to get to Riker – now – and it wasn't going to be through his door. She glanced up at the ceiling, which featured a large silver airduct.

Bingo.

Katlin shucked out of her dress and pulled on the pants and shirt she'd replicated for herself the other night. She found her phaser and clipped it to her belt, and then dragged the table up under the air vent. She could barely reach, but she unfastened the screen, jumped, and caught the edge. She pulled herself up into the duct.

She paused, flat on her belly, making a mental map of the distance between her room and Riker's. She took a deep breath and began to crawl. A few hundred feet ahead, she paused, hearing voices.

"Who did you contact?" Ambassador Steelax demanded.

"No one," Riker insisted. There was a dull slap, like the sound of a punch. Katlin mouthed a silent gasp.

"She knows something."

"She doesn't know _anything_," Riker growled. "She's a stupid little cadet with daddy is-" Riker's voice ended in another dull punch.

"Why don't we bring her in, then?"

"Don't!" Riker barked.

"Petan, go find the girl."

Katlin heard a door open and close. It would only be a few moments before they found her room empty and the air duct hanging open. _Ffffuuuuu_\- Katlin thought as she slid forward, as silently as possible. The shaft branched to her right, and she glanced down through the grill. The bathroom. Perfect.

Slowly, Katlin pushed the airduct open and lowered herself into the bathroom. The bathroom door was mostly closed but unlatched. She took a deep breath. How many people were in there? Three? Four? Katlin set her phaser to stun. Yippy-kay-yay, she thought and threw herself through the door.

Four. Katlin barely registered the back of Riker's head – it looked like he was tied to a chair – and instead leveled her phaser at the guards. The first two went down easily, but the third managed to draw his weapon and fired at Katlin just as she took him down. Katlin felt the blast of an ion nerve pulse slam across her chest. She was thrown backwards, crashing into and splintering a wooden end table. She slid down the wall, unable to move, barely breathing.

The sound of crunching shards of glass let her know someone was approaching. "You stupid little brat," Ambassador Steelax drawled. She was holding the third guard's phaser. She ground her foot into Katlin's throat, and Katlin gurgled. "You should've listened to me. I tried to warn you." She casually set the phaser to kill.

Riker smashed the back of a wooden chair over her head. The ambassador dropped.

"Katlin," Riker gasped, dropping beside her.

Katlin tried to say something, but it came out an airy wheeze.

Riker tipped her chin back, opening her airway. "Lay still, you're alright. Just like getting stunned during tactical, remember? Focus on breathing." He laid a hand across her chest. "Breathe."

The door opened behind them. "Can't find the –" the guard started to say.

Riker snatched Katlin's phaser and fired. The guard went down.

Katlin felt sensation returning to her face. "Will," she gasped. "Will, I saw Xenia."

He helped her to a sit. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, and there's these little silver disks –"

Riker fished in his pockets. "Like this?" He held one up.

"Yes," Katlin said, taking it from him with slightly numbed hands. "They're –"

"All over the place," Riker finished for her. "I brought it to the Ambassador's attention, and, well –" Riker glanced back over his shoulder at the assortment of fallen bodies. "It looks like she might be in on it."

Katlin turned the disk over in her hands. "Will, is this," she swallowed. "Is this Yllium?"

Riker snatched it from her and held it up to the light. He swore.

"Xenia," Katlin said, flatly. "She brought us to the throne room. She told me how to poison Cal. They faked their deaths. No one stopped us. It WAS too easy."

Riker groaned. "We brought the detonator back. We brought it _here_."

Katlin paled. "The president is here. The vice president is here. Riker, _everyone_ is here."

Riker pulled her to a stand. "What's the range on the detonator?"

"Five miles."

"I want you to find the nearest security terminal. Find a way to initiate an evacuation. I'll get the detonator. It might be on a timer. If we can get it five miles from here, then we should be safe." Riker handed her the phaser and then took another from one of the immobile guards. "Meet me out front with a fast car." He clipped the phaser to his belt.

"Yes, sir." Katlin started to move.

"No," Riker caught her arm. She met his gaze and he swallowed. "William," he said, quietly.

"William," she agreed.

He released her. "Go."

"Will, I-"

"I know! Go!"

Katlin sprinted from the room. It was three hallways before she found a security terminal. "Computer!" she barked. "Initiate emergency evacuation."

The computer chimed. "Reason for evacuation?"

"Uh." Katlin hesitated. "A bomb."

The computer paused, and then chimed twice. "There are no bombs currently located on these premises."

Katlin slapped the panel. "Are you shi—fine. There's a fire!"

The computer paused, then chimed twice. "There are no fires currently located on these premises."

"Uuunngh!" Katlin unclipped her phaser. "Have it your way. There's a crazy bitch with a gun."

The computer paused, then chimed twice. "There are no crazy bi-"

Katlin fired into the ceiling. The computer paused, then chimed twice. "Emergency evacuation initiated." The lighting around Katlin changed to red and a klaxon began whooping.

The computer's voice echoed through the hallways. "All personnel evacuate immediately. All personnel evacuate immediately."

To Katlin's relief, doors flew open and people began pouring towards the exits, hurriedly, but with discipline. She ran with them, streaming out of the main doors.

"Car, car, car," Katlin said, scanning the area just outside the main doors. It was thick with people.

Katlin felt the blast before she registered that she'd heard it – the sudden rush of superheated air knocked her forward. Sound roared in her ears as she hit the ground and bounced once.

She was on her feet before she'd come to a complete stop. Riker.

She sprinted past the prostrate crowd, back into the building.

Small fires licked the walls, emanating from the silver disks affixed at irregular intervals. Apparently the detonator was not completely efficient, because several unexploded disks popped as she ran past. Katlin dodged the blasts. A sprinkler system kicked on, and Katlin slipped as she ran.

Katlin could see the rotunda ahead of her. Flashes of phaser fire lanced across the opening. She paused in the archway. Yvestaltian men dressed in black were in the balcony of the rotunda, firing down at someone she couldn't see. She hoped it was Riker.

Katlin readied her weapon, stepped inside the rotunda and fired. One of the men on the balcony went down with her shot, the other two with whoever was firing behind her. "Time to go, Riker!" she yelled, shaking her wet hair out of her eyes.

"Katlin, I thought I told you to get the –" Another explosion shook the building.

"Car?" Katlin grinned around the doorway at Riker. "Well, _you_ were supposed to get the detonator."

A marble column crashed down in flames, blocking their exit through the gardens.

"Run!" Riker said. They sprinted back towards the main exit. Silver disks kept popping behind them, with increasingly large blasts. Something creaked and Katlin looked up to see a flaming beam falling towards them.

She threw herself into a hallway on the left. Riker dived right. The beam crashed and flames shot up between them. "Riker?" Katlin screamed.

"I'm up! RUN!"

Katlin sprinted down her hallway, the roar of the fire ever louder in her ears. She passed a doorway at a full tilt, but something wailed from inside the room. Katlin pulled up short. She ducked in the room.

A little green Anduvian baby was sitting in the middle of the floor, eyes screwed up and mouth open in a wail.

"Son of a-" Katlin hefted the baby. "Let's go, pudding." She ran back into the hallway.

The hallways ended in the antechamber, and Riker was yelling her name. "Here! Here!" she screamed, clutching the child.

"The hell did you get a baby?" Riker asked as they sprinted out of the building.

"You want me to put it back?" Katlin demanded, wild-eyed.

"I –"

The night exploded. Just feet outside the door, Katlin and Riker turned to see a wave of scarlet flames rushing towards them. Katlin dropped to her knees, curling herself over the baby. She felt Riker throw himself across her back. The flames washed over them, and then there was silence.

They lay frozen, waiting for more.

Nothing came.

Katlin took a breath. "You dead, Riker?"

"No." He pushed himself off her and rolled over on to his back. He patted out a small fire on his shoulder. "You?"

"No." Katlin sat up and considered the baby, which had been shocked into wide-eyed silence. "Hey," she said gently. "Hi. You're okay, Auntie Katlin's got you."

The baby began to scream.

Flood lights suddenly illuminated their position. Riker pushed himself up on one elbow, shielding his eyes from the light with his other hand. Katlin winced and squinted, jiggling the baby.

A shadow passed in front of the lights – the unmistakable outline of Captain Picard. Katlin's eyes adjusted and she could see he was standing in front of a bevy of police cars and fire-fighting shuttles.

Katlin swallowed. She glanced over her shoulder in time to see the last of the Yvestalta city rotunda crumble.

"Explain yourselves!" Picard barked.

Riker and Katlin pointed accusing fingers at each other.


	9. Bonus Track: Geronimo

The doors to her quarters hissed open.

Katlin set her pack down with a sigh. Home at last, and everything just as she'd left it. Even the drawers in her bedroom were still gaping open from the frantic packing she'd done – what – five days ago? Katlin put a hand in the small of her back and surveyed the room. It was good to be home.

So, she asked herself. How do you deal with the calm?

Find something to take the edge off.

"Computer," Katlin said. "Are there any officer training programs being offered this week?"

"Affirmative. Lieutenant Worf is leading advanced tactical phaser training and Counselor Troi is hosting a seminar on Heraldian language and culture."

"Good. Sign me up for both."

"Acknowledged."

"Thanks. Oh, and when's my next helm duty?"

"Sixteen hundred hours."

Katlin smiled. Back to work. She opened her closet and pulled out a clean uniform.

* * *

It was a full week before she heard from him. Her comlink chirped. "Commander Riker to Lieutenant Pierce."

Katlin paled slightly, lowering her book. She sat up on her sofa, slowly. Her badge chirped again. "Riker to Pierce, acknowledge."

Katlin tapped her badge. "Pierce. Go ahead."

"Lieutenant Pierce, I'd like to meet you in Ten Forward."

Katlin hesitated.

"Please." Riker added.

Katlin swallowed. "Yes sir." She closed her book with a snap and stood.

The doors to Ten Forward slid open at her approach. Riker was at one of the far tables, reading a PADD and drinking something red. He glanced up as the doors opened, and then stood.

They sized each other up from across the room. Katlin realized it was the first time in weeks she'd seen him in uniform. Well, they were both in uniform now. She crossed the room with long strides.

"Thank you for coming," Riker said. "Have a seat."

They sat. "Something to drink?" Riker asked. He ran a hand through his hair, unable to meet her eyes.

"No thank you," Katlin said.

"Listen, Pierce, I owe you an apology." He folded his hands on the table and sighed. "Several apologies, I think."

Katlin shifted uncomfortably. "Commander, I-"

"Please," he said. "It has to be said. I was out of line. More than once." He ran a hand over his mouth.

Katlin cleared her throat. "So was I."

Riker met her eyes. "That is irrelevant. In case you haven't noticed, I have more pips on my collar than you." He paused. "So I want to apologize."

Katlin sat back, folding her arms. "Thank you."

Riker took another deep drink. "Not forgiven though, am I?"

Katlin shook her head. "No." But she smiled.

"This might help." Riker handed her the PADD.

Katlin unfolded her arms to accept it. "What is it?"

"I heard you'd taken Counselor Troi's class on Heraldian culture, so I'm assuming you're familiar with the current diplomatic impasse."

"Yes," Katlin said, scrolling through the information of the PADD. "Both sides of the trade dispute accuse the other of stealing the Scroll of Tangria."

"We've received information that the Scroll has been hidden in the caves surrounding the city of Gania. Captain Picard wants someone to go after it."

Katlin glanced up. "You and me?" she asked.

"No," Riker said, shaking his head slightly. "Just you."

Katlin felt a grin split her face. "When can I leave?"

Riker returned her grin. "Now, if you want."

Katlin stood. "Thank you."

"Knock 'em dead, Pierce." Riker sat back to watch her leave. She gave him a smile over one shoulder.

Katlin tore through her room, arming herself with a phaser, tricorder, replacement Klingon knife. Gania was a desert city, and she replicated herself some hot-weather fatigues and a shroud. Bag packed, she could barely keep herself from running to transporter room.

O'Brien chuckled as she bounded up onto the transporter.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Ready." Katlin positioned herself. "One to beam down."

The transporter began to whirl and the last thing O'Brien saw was her wink.


End file.
